For many years, I said to my children, “As soon as Darling Daughter graduates, I’m buying a camper van and will live with no fixed address.”
It turns out that I am a person who takes responsibility very seriously. I’m not sure how that happened, but I am sure today that it’s true.
When I became a single parent, I took on a big project with lots or responsibility. I thought it best to offer the flexibility I wanted to care for my children that I start a business rather than get a job. I bought us a little house in a small village on the prairie – yes, a little house on the prairie.
Going back to the responsibility thing, that’s single parenthood, small business and house under the heading of major responsibilities. Through almost 20 years of hanging on tight and taking responsibility for everything put before me, I managed to raise the kids, grow the business and maintain the house.
In early 2009, I had a warning from (pick one) God, The Universe, Great Mystery or Oneness that life is finite - even mine. It was an event that made me think about everything that created my past and everything that might create my future until my story ends.
For just over 2 years, the struggle between my responsibilities and my desire to think about some stuff has challenged me greatly. I want some time to think. I want time to think for so long that my thoughts exhaust themselves and I reach a place of inner peace. I want to know exactly who I am and how I want to be in this world for the time I have left.
I let go because I can. I have no debt, no kids, no house and no responsibilities. I’m healthy, young enough and brave enough. I have a fantastic support network.
Not that this is easy. My emotions since the sale of the house are akin to lying on the beach listening to waves – whoosh, pause, whoosh, pause.
The day I received a firm offer on my house, my mind disconnected from body. A thin tether held my consciousness in place so that I could perform the tasks before me. A week later, the sale became final and, for 24 hours, I couldn’t form a complete sentence. As 60 days counted down to move out, I had to simply allow myself to be and do the tasks before me. There was no plan and no thinking.
The final two days remind me of giving birth – hard work, interspersed with acute emotions and ending with a feeling of being somewhere completely different. It was the goal and the target, but it changes everything.
Here I am untethered, unfettered, a child of the Universe. I’m off to discover me in near and far away lands.
I’ll keep you posted.